


Baby Drive Slow ('Til We Run Out of Road)

by ohohstarryeyed



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohohstarryeyed/pseuds/ohohstarryeyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for hc_bingo 's Bodyguard square.</p><p>Huge thanks to sunsetmog for the incredible beta and heroic slaying of my over abundance of full stops and misuse of commas. ♥ Also thanks to aredblush and playfullips for the million read throughs, the awesome feed back and enthusiasm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Drive Slow ('Til We Run Out of Road)

"I can't believe--are you kidding me right now?"

Spencer sits in the armchair and watches his latest client throw his arms in the air and pace up and down, mildly amused by the display of histrionics. He’s only tiny, but for what he lacks in stature he appears to make up for with noise.

"No, really, Shane, are you seriously fucking kidding me with this?"

The other guy--"Shane Valdes." he had introduced himself with a smile and a handshake--looks completely unperturbed by the antics. In fact he almost looks entertained. Almost.

"Shane. _Shane_ , are you even listening to me?"

"Bit hard not to." Shane replies, still looking completely unaffected. There must be something in his tone or the look on his face because the other guy silences momentarily.

"This is ridiculous."

"No, this is being smart, Bren. You running around town like someone hasn't been threatening your life is ridiculous." Shane tugs at his hat and Spencer can sees the lines of worry creasing his eyes and mouth.

"But a _bodyguard_? I'm not fucking Whitney Houston and, sorry to say, that dude is not Kevin Costner." Brendon pauses. "No offense."

Spencer shrugs but doesn't reply. He's not here to talk some kid--Brendon, his brain supplies, but Spencer isn't in the habit of learning names until he's signed the dotted line-- into letting him protect him. He either wants to not die or he doesn't, it's pretty simple as far as Spencer is concerned. It's not like there's a shortage of work, not when LA is full of high profile and paranoid celebrities convinced that everyone, from their manager to the guy that fixed their sink when they were seventeen, is out to get them.

"Brendon. It's not negotiable. Don't make me go over your head."

Brendon glares, "Who to, Shane? I don’t have a boss, remember? I’m on my own."

“I still have Kyla on speed dial. Don’t think for a seco--”

“You wouldn’t.” Brendon pokes him in the chest and really, Spencer thinks this is getting way too daytime soap opera for him.

"Try me, Bren. I dare you."

"I fucking hate you." Brendon sighs and flops down in an arm chair, his arms crossed tight across his chest, "Fine. Hire him, but he's not the boss of me, okay? I got away from my parents because I didn't want to be told what to do anymore, I don't need to pay someone to do it."

Shane shrugs, "He's here to keep you safe, Bren, not to tell you to clean your room. Actually--" Shane turns to Spencer, "You could do that, right? Pull some Chuck Norris shit and make him clean up after himself."

Spencer raises an eyebrow. "It doesn't really fall under my job description, but sure, if you want."

"He doesn't want." Brendon glares at Spencer and then at Shane, "You do not want."

Shane laughs and claps Brendon on the shoulder. "I've got a call to make. I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

"Sure thing. I'll let my crew know and they should be here by two-ish." Spencer stands and shakes Shane's hand. "I'll get the contract ready by then as well. I’ll need you both to sign."

Shane nods. "No worries. I'll let the gate man know to expect them."

Spencer watches him leave and then turns to Brendon, who is glaring at the floor like it’s the cause of all of his problems.

“So, I’m going to need to see your house.”

Brendon nods. He stands up and doesn’t bother waiting for Spencer before he starts walking. They get to the top of the stairs, and Brendon all but hisses at him, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not a babysitter. I’m a bodyguard. Babysitters aren’t allowed to carry weapons.”

“Right.” Brendon gives him a look. “I’m your boss, right? Like, I’m paying you and everything to protect me or whatever?”

“Well, you will be as soon as you and Shane sign the contract.”

“Good. Remind me after I sign it that I want you to stop talking to me.” Brendon turns and starts stomping his way down the stairs.

Spencer sighs and rolls his eyes as he follows him.

\--

“So, hey, my new client is a jackass. Do you think it’d be wrong of me to let him get shot?”

There’s the clatter of silverware in his ear and then Ryan’s soft laughter. “Isn’t that against the job description?”

“He’s a _jerk,_ Ryan. Like, he’s not even a cool jerk like Walker was. He’s going to order me to not talk to him. How the fuck am I supposed to say hey, run for your life, if I can’t _talk_ to him?” Spencer waves at Bryar as he drives the van carrying their equipment in and then leans against the wall, rubbing at his forehead. He can already feel the headache coming on.

“Shoot him in the knee cap?”

Spencer sighs. “You are no help, you know that right? Put Walker on, at least he attempts to be helpful.”

“No can do, Spence. Jon and I aren’t talking.”

Spencer can hear the sounds of Ryan making coffee, and probably something disastrous and gross that is supposed to be breakfast, and something pulls in his stomach. He shakes his head a little and focuses. “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“He wants another cat. I said no, because four is more than enough, but now he’s being pissy about me ruining his dreams of being a cat farmer.”

“Distract him with a blow job?”

Ryan groans, “You are entirely unhelpful you know that, right? Christ, distract him with a blow job, what the fuck kind of advice is that?”

“It’s better than shoot him in the knee cap, just saying.”

Spencer sees Bryar waving him over and he sighs. “Ry? I’ve gotta go.”

“Of course you do. Don’t get killed, okay?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Okay. Bye, Spence.”

“See you, Ry.” Spencer hangs up and sighs. He hates saying goodbye to Ryan, especially when he hasn’t seen him in so long. He tucks his cell in his pocket and makes his way over to Bryar. At least work can distract him.

\--  
“What are you doing?”

Spencer looks up from where he’s connecting a GPS tracker to a tie pin.“Hmm?”

Brendon is standing staring at him, but at least it’s a lot less hostile than the looks he’s been throwing Spencer’s way for the last five hours. Spencer’s crew had shown up and started installing cameras and a whole host of other things around Brendon’s house and for some reason that made Brendon even angrier. Spencer will never really understand people.

“I asked you what you’re doing.”

Spencer frowns, concentrating on his task. “I thought you didn’t want me to speak to you.”

“It’s possible I over-reacted and took my fear and frustration over not being in control of the situation out on you. Well, according to my therapist, anyway. Really I’m just not very sociable and hate most people. So, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Spencer shrugs. “Happens all the time.”

Brendon snorts a little and Spencer looks up at him, squinting against the glare from the sun.Up close, now that he's not throwing a fit, Brendon doesn't look much younger than Spencer. Spencer knows from his files that Brendon is older than him, but from everything he’s seen this morning Spencer likes to think he has maturity on his side.

“You were going to tell me what you were doing?”

“Oh,” Spencer holds up a tie pin, “GPS tracker. So if I lose you, which isn’t likely, or you somehow manage to do the runner, which is _more_ likely, I’ll be able to find you.”

Brendon comes closer and sits down next to Spencer. “But wouldn’t I just ditch the tie pin?”

“In my experience, when someone’s attempting to run away the last thing they’re going to remember is that they’re wearing this.” Spencer solders another wire, “Usually by the time they _do_ remember, I’ve already caught up with them.”

“But doesn’t it defeat the purpose now that I know about it?”

Spencer smiles a little. “Who says this is the only GPS system that’ll be on your person?”

“You can’t make me wear it, you know. I do have rights.”

Spencer takes in Brendon’s folded arms and glare and turns back to the soldering iron. “So, question. What is it exactly that you’re so against? Me being your bodyguard, having a bodyguard or not dying?”

“Being told what to do, actually. I don’t want to die and I don’t really care who it is protecting me, but I had no say in this and I hate being told what I can and can’t do.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do and as far as I can tell, I haven’t yet.” Spencer reaches for a pair of pliers. “It’s not really my thing, you know, barging into people’s lives and barking orders. I’m just here to protect you. As long as what you’re doing is safe and isn’t going to put you in a dangerous situation, or get me shot, you’re free to do what you want, when you want.”

“As long as you can come with, right?”

“Yep. Bit hard to protect you when you’re three blocks away.” Spencer frowns in concentration and snips some excess wire.

“You know, if you attach the red wire to the green, it’ll work as a conductor and then you won’t need so much solder.”

“How do you know?” Spencer looks over at him again.

“I thought--don’t you get briefed on that sort of stuff before you sign on to protect me?”

Spencer looks back down and keeps soldering. He's not really willing to take the advice of a guy he met five hours ago. He needs to know this is going to work.“Mmhm.”

“How much do they tell you?”

“I know that you graduated from MIT when you were seventeen. I know that you freelance for government agencies and that you can build a hard drive from scratch in two hours. I also know that you stumbled across classified information and now there’s reason to believe that someone is out to get you.” Spencer starts screwing the back on the pin. “I also know that when you were in the seventh grade you were given a two day suspension for changing the passwords on all of the main office computers.”

“They told you all of that?”

Spencer finishes with the last screw and grins. “No, that’s what I found out myself. What they told me is that they can’t tell me anything because it’s classified, but that the threat is coming from somewhere unknown.”

Brendon frowns. “But--how are you supposed to keep me safe if you don’t even know what it is you’re keeping me safe _from_?”

Spencer grins. “Because I am very, very good at my job.”

“So I’m supposed to trust you to protect me from whoever is out there when one of the biggest government agencies _can’t?_ ”

“Yep.”

“Oh. Great.” Brendon frowns, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “How many times have you been shot?”

Spencer raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going to get shot.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Spencer finishes packing his stuff up. “I’ve shot people more than I’ve ever been shot.”

“Still not answering my question.”

“Five times.” Spencer shrugs. “But none of my clients have ever been, and I don’t plan on starting with you.”

Brendon nods and hands Spencer a pair of pliers. He takes them and packs them away. “Thanks.”

“So--what happens if I want to go out?”

“I come with you. It’ll just be like you’re going out with a friend, except I’ll be carrying a gun and you won’t be able to go off alone.”

“Okay.”

Spencer stands and stretches, “It’s going to be fine, yeah? All you have to do is be alert and if anything out of the ordinary happens, let me know. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Can do.”

\--

Spencer’s in the kitchen, nursing a glass of milk, when a figure appears in the doorway. His instincts kick in and his hand is on his gun before he even thinks about it. He withdraws his hand when he sees Brendon.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Spencer shakes his head. “Reflex. Can’t sleep?”

“Not really. I’m not used to--they took my computers, so I’m a bit-- lost, I guess.” Brendon pours himself some milk and sits across from Spencer. “Is it--do you think it’s weird that nothing has happened? You’ve been here two days and before you there was other agents and--” he sighs. "Something should have happened, right?”

“Not necessarily. In my experience unknown threats are unknown for a reason.”

Brendon frowns and runs his fingers over the condensation on his glass.“What reason?”

“Oh.” Spencer shrugs. “Element of surprise, mostly. It’s a bit hard to plan a defense when you don’t know what the attack is, or where it’s coming from.”

“So, we’re sitting ducks?”

“Not exactly. The fact that we know there is a threat is a good start. The fact that I’m here and my crew is on standby, that we have surveillance and a game plan; those are all good things.” Spencer smiles a little. “We might not know the rules of the game, but we’re still playing it.”

“So, it’s just a game?”

Spencer drinks some of his milk. “It’s like chess. He makes a move, we’ll counter it.”

“I suck at chess.”

“Well,” Spencer grins, “I’m a master.”

Brendon smiles weakly and keeps running his fingers over the glass. Spencer watches him, studying the pattern his fingers make.

“Treble clef.”

“Hmm?” Brendon snaps out of his reverie. “Sorry?”

“Treble clef.” Spencer nods his head at the pattern Brendon’s traced in the condensation.

“Oh, yeah. I flirted with being a music major for a little while.”

“Yeah? Why’d you change your mind?”

Brendon shrugs. “I didn’t. It wasn’t really an option.”

Spencer opens his mouth to speak, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He opens it and scrolls through a message and then casts a glance out the window.

“Something wrong?”

“Maybe,” Spencer stands and takes hold of Brendon’s arm,. “Let’s move to the den, okay?”

Brendon nods and lets Spencer lead him. “What’s going on?”

“Just someone loitering near the gates. There’s a tail on them, but just to be on the safe side, I’d like to keep you out of sight.”

Brendon folds his arms across his chest and sits on the couch. “Okay.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s probably nothing.”

“Or it could be someone waiting to bust a cap in my ass.”

Spencer snorts. “Really? A cap in your ass?”

“Whatever, it’s a totally valid phrase.”

“Uh huh.” Spencer flops down on the couch and turns the TV on, keeping the volume down low enough that if there’s a disturbance he’ll hear it. “Oh hey, I love this movie.”

Brendon starts laughing, “The Bodyguard? You--for real? You are a bodyguard.”

“So what? You never watch movies about nerdy hackers?”

“Hey!” Brendon punches him in the thigh and Spencer turns his head and looks at him, raising his eyebrow menacingly.

“Remember when Shane asked me if I could pull some Chuck Norris moves to make you clean your room?”

Brendon nods and Spencer grins evilly. “Punch me again, and you’re going to wish you only had Chuck Norris to deal with.”

Brendon last all of two seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Oh my god.” He takes the remote out of Spencer’s hand and changes the channel. “Star Wars kicks The Bodyguard’s ass any day. Besides, you are so much more Harrison Ford than you are Kevin Costner.”

Spencer sighs dramatically, “Fine, but only because there are light sabers.”

“And Ewoks.”

Spencer nods. “Well, duh.”

\--  
“I’m bored.”

Spencer looks up from his computer. “Sorry?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, I didn’t--never mind. What did you say?”

“I said, I’m bored.” Brendon flops down next to him. “I need to get out of this house.”

Spencer frowns back at the computer screen and keeps scrolling. “Where did you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere. Coffee sounds good, oh wait no, Mexican.”

“You just ate, like an hour ago.”

“So? I’m a growing boy.”

Spencer sighs and enters a password, searching through another file. “Okay, well. I need to finish up here, so give it an hour and we’ll go.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh. I’m looking through some more information about you actually.” Spencer smiles a little. “My crew’s been digging.”

Brendon leans in to look at the screen, hooking his chin over Spencer’s shoulder, and Spencer holds himself still and pushes away the urge to move.

“You need to know that I won a science fair in the fourth grade? How is that important?”

“Everything is important. The more I know about you, the easier it is for me to protect you.” Spencer opens another file and starts to read. Brendon’s quiet for a minute, reading over Spencer’s shoulder.

“You could just ask me yourself, you know.”

Spencer nods. “I could. But you could also lie, so.”

“What sort of dick would lie to the person whose supposed to be protecting them?”

“You’d be surprised. Three of the times I got shot was because the client lied.” Spencer shrugs. “It happens. Human nature and all that.”

“I’m not going to lie.”

Spencer looks at him. His eyes are wide and he looks so fucking _earnest_. Earnest with a side of terrified and vulnerable and a hell of a lot of attractive. Spencer sighs and closes the computer. “Okay. Okay, let me get changed and I’ll let my people know we’re moving, and then we’ll go okay?”

“Awesome. You won’t regret it, Spence.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow. “Spence?”

“Spencer is so formal.” Brendon shrugs and smiles at him. “I’d prefer to think of us as friends.”

“Friends.”

“Yeah you know, just two guys hanging out, watching movies and talking shit.” Brendon grins. “One of them just happens to have a gun.”

“Uh huh.”

Brendon’s face falls a little. “It’s cool. I get it. This is just a job, forget I sa--”

Spencer reaches out and rests a hand on his arm. “Friends sounds good, Brendon.”

“Yeah? Okay, awesome.” Brendon picks up the remote. “I’ll stay here while you change.”

“Okay. Try and stay out of trouble.”

Brendon mocks salutes him. “Will do.”

Spencer sighs, rolling his eyes and walks off to get changed.

\--  
“So,” Brendon picks up the menu and starts to scan it. “Why did you choose being a bodyguard?”

“Oh, I don’t know really. I just kinda fell into it.”

Brendon raises an eyebrow. “You just fell into carrying a gun and putting your life on the line for strangers?”

“Okay when you put it that way.” Spencer shrugs. “I was going to be a cop. I had graduated from the Academy and the idea was that I would eventually work towards joining the FBI.”

“So, what happened?”

“About a week after I graduated, this guy came up to me and offered me a job being a bodyguard. The money he offered was amazing and the job sounded interesting, so I said I’d think about it.”

“You weren’t sure?”

Spencer frowns. “I wasn’t not sure? It’s just--it’s one thing to be a cop and knowing you might have to put your life on the line for someone else, but it’s another to go in knowing that you could die protecting someone, if that makes sense.”

Brendon nods. “Yeah, it does.”

“So I told him I’d think about it, and then he offered to let me go on a job, protecting someone who had witnessed a murder.” Spencer smiles a little just thinking about it. “Except somehow me and the client managed to get separated from the rest of the crew. We had no back up, no communication, nothing. So I took him to my best friend's apartment and we stayed there for a week.”

Brendon laughs. “What did your best friend think about hiding a witness?”

“He was more than okay with it.” Spencer smiles fondly. “They ended up falling in love and are getting married next month. I’m best man.”

“Really? Wow, that’s awesome.”

Spencer nods. “Yeah. Yeah it really is.”

The waitress comes over, and they order their food. Brendon picks at the edge of his napkin. “Does it ever get lonely?”

“Sometimes.” Spencer shrugs. “When I have downtime it does for sure, but I don’t know, sometimes I get an awesome client and I don’t even think about it.”

“Like me?”

Spencer laughs a little. “Yeah, like you.”

Brendon grins at him and then looks away, blushing. He looks back and Spencer smiles at him, but any moment they might be having is interrupted by the waitress bringing their drinks.

“So, tell me something about yourself.” Brendon says, taking a sip of Coke.

“What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

“Okay, then.” Spencer smiles, and starts telling him about his family. He knows he shouldn't be getting personal, he knows he’s here to do a job but he can’t help it. There’s something about Brendon that draws him in, makes him want to tell him all of his secrets.

Brendon laughs at something he says and Spencer’s stomach twists. _Fuck_ , he thinks. This is not going to end well.

\--  
Spencer gets the call at 4am. He’s just finished doing a double check of the locks when his phone starts ringing, and he knows this is it. He jumps to action before he’s even said hello.

Brendon is asleep on the couch in the den, the same place he’s slept every night for a week, and all it takes is Spencer shaking his arm roughly for him to wake up.

“Spen--”

Spencer shushes him and pulls him to the floor. “Listen to me carefully, okay? Someone is in the grounds. I need to get you out of the house and to the car. Under no circumstances are you to leave my side unless I tell you.”

Spencer attaches the tie pin into the cuff of Brendon’s sleep pants and grips his arm.“I tell you to run, you run. Got it?”

Brendon nods quickly, his eyes wide and frightened. He lets Spencer pull him to his feet. “Stay behind me.”

Spencer pushes the door open slowly, and carefully looks around the corner. It’s dark and he can’t see anything. His phone vibrates in his pocket again. He slips the wireless earpiece into his ear and presses send. “Laena? Tell me I’m clear.”

“He’s still in the grounds. You should be clear to get to the garage but take it slow. No heroics this time.”

Spencer wraps his fingers around Brendon’s wrist. “It was one time.”

“Twice.” Spencer can hear the click click of a key board. “Okay, Trav’s got a sight on him. Slow, Spence.”

“Got it.” Spencer makes his way down the hallway, keeping a firm grip around his wrist. Brendon’s pressed along his back and Spencer can feel him shaking, his breathing coming in short, ragged pants.

“Laena, how are we doing?”

“Still clear. He’s at the south entrance. Trav’s trying to get the shot.”

Spencer walks a little faster and then he hears cursing and then Laena’s voice in his ear. “Shit, there’s two of them. They’ve doubled back, Spence, you need to run for it.”

The sound of a gunshot follows her voice. Something whizzes past his head and then the vase above Brendon’s shoulder shatters. He pushes at Brendon, ordering him to stay down, and Spencer starts shooting, yelling for Laena to give him information. A shadow crosses past the window and Spencer shoots at it. He grabs hold of Brendon and runs, still shooting. He sees another shadow, a gun point at them and he doesn’t think, he points and shoots and he knows, even as he’s dragging Brendon toward the car, that it was a direct hit.

They make it to the garage and Spencer pushes Brendon into the front seat, then get in himself, pressing the button to open the garage door. He puts his foot down on the gas. “Get as low down as you can, Brendon.”

Brendon gets down on the floor, his head ducked down as Spencer speeds out of the garage. Spencer heads for the gates, ducking when a bullet ricochets off the trunk of the car. “I need the gates open.”

“Got it, Spence.”

Spencer can see the electric gates opening and then he flies through the gap, checking that they’re closing behind him.

“Fuck.”

“I’ve got safe house two ready for you, Spence.” Laena’s voice is calm and a welcome relief from the pounding of his heart and the ragged breathing coming from Brendon.

“Thanks. Is someone with Valdes?”

“Annie’s on it. She’s going to take him and meet up with Suarez and then move him to a secure location.”

Spencer checks the rear view mirror. “Have I got a tail?”

“Nope, all clear.”

“Okay. Who's meeting us?”

“Let me check.” He hears Laena hit a couple of keys, “Ashlee and Johnson are there now. Trav’s going to relieve him in the morning but Ash’ll stay until this is over.”

“Right. Thanks, Laena.”

“Take care.”

“Will do.” Spencer presses a button on his phone and then holds out a hand to Brendon, helping him back up on the seat, “Hey, it’s okay.”

Brendon shakes his head, “It’s not okay. We were _shot_ at, Spencer.”

Spencer reaches into the backseat and feels around for a blanket and then passes it to Brendon. “But we weren’t shot, so it’s a win.”

“In what fucking universe do you count being shot at, but not being shot, a _win_ ”

“Hey,” Spencer reaches out and rests his hand on his arm, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I am so not okay. Someone just shot at me. _At both of us_ and you’re like--Jesus fucking Christ, you’re totally like Kevin Costner.” Brendon shakes his head and pulls the blanket around him. “How the fuck is this even my life?”

Spencer checks his mirrors again. “I have better hair than Kevin Costner. Plus, if I pulled that stunt with the samurai sword and the scarf, my best friend would kill me. He has a lot of feelings about accessories.”

“Stop trying to distract me.”

“I’m not, I’m just pointing out fact. My hair is way better than Kevin Costner’s and, quite frankly, I’m hotter too.” Spencer shrugs. “It’s simple physics.”

Brendon rolls his eyes. “I don’t even know what you’re saying right now. All I’m hearing is Hi, my name is Spencer and I’m a crazy person who gets shot at for a living.”

“It’s really not that bad. You get used to it.”

“No. You might be used to it, but I’m not, and I don’t plan on ever getting used to it.” Brendon pulls the blankets higher around him. “I’m going to sleep and hopefully when I wake up this will all have been a really, really fucked up dream.”

Spencer watches him shut his eyes and sighs. “I’ll wake you when we stop.”

When Brendon doesn’t reply he turns the radio on low and just drives.

\--  
Spencer drives for what feels like forever, his eyes drooping more and more the longer he stares at the road stretching out in front of him, a never-changing straight line where even the scenery stays the same. He pulls into a drive-thru and buys the biggest coffee he can, and then finds a spot in the car park, close to the exit just in case. Brendon’s still asleep in the seat beside him, so he reaches across and pulls the blanket up over Brendon where it’s slid down, and then gets out of the car, locking it behind him.

He pulls out his phone and dials, resting against the car. He can’t afford to let Brendon out of his sight and if he’s really honest with himself, he doesn’t really want to. Spencer keeps his voice low, just in case.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Spence? Hey what’s up?”

Spencer scans the surrounding area. “I got shot at again.”

“Jesus. Are you okay? Is the client okay?”

“I’m okay. Brendon’s pissed, though. Pissed and terrified.”

“Understandable. Wait, _Brendon?_ It’s Brendon now?”

“Ryan, don’t start.” Spencer picks at a loose thread on his shirt. “It’s not a thing.”

“Fucking liar, it is so a thing. You never use first names, Spence. You still call Jon, _Walker_.”

Spencer sighs, “He’s just--I like him okay? He’s a good guy and I don’t know, I have fun with him. It doesn’t feel like work.”

“But, Spence, it _is_ work.”

“I know that, Ryan.” Spencer snaps and then winces. “Sorry, sorry. I just--I know. I do.”

Ryan’s quiet for a moment, his breathing steady and calming in Spencer’s ear. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Spencer deflates. “I know and I won’t. I’m just being ridiculous.”

“You’re not. You’ve been doing this for a while now, Spence. You were bound to want something more eventually.”

“I guess.” Spencer sighs, “I should get going.”

“Okay. Stay safe, Spence.”

“I will. Say hi to Walker for me.”

Ryan laughs and Spencer relaxes at the sound. “I will.”

Spencer hangs up and rests his forehead against the car door. He sighs and gets back in. There’s still a while to drive yet.

\--  
Brendon wakes up ten minutes after Spencer gets back into the car and the rest of the drive is quiet. Brendon doesn’t say much of anything, only speaking to thank Spencer for the coffee and muffin and Spencer doesn’t try to push.

Eventually Spencer turns onto a familiar gravel road, and through two giant black iron gates that shut closed behind the car with a reassuring clang.

“Where are we?”

Spencer drives the car up a long driveway and pulls to a stop outside of a large cottage. “Safe House.”

“I thought safe houses were supposed to be run down and roach-infested.”

“You watch too many movies, Brendon.” Spencer grabs a backpack out of the backseat and then walks around to open the car door for Brendon, taking a quick look around. “Okay, come on.”

Spencer keeps a hand wrapped around Brendon’s wrist as they go inside, not letting go until the door is locked and alarm set.

“Okay. We’re going to stay on the bottom level for now. Bathroom is down the hall, the kitchen is on the left and the living room is through there.” Spencer points to the right. “There will be two other people staying with us at all times but I’m still the one in charge and I’m the one protecting you, okay? You need anything or if anyone tells you to do something, check with me first.”

“Okay, got it.” Brendon pauses. “What about clothes and stuff?”

Spencer hands him the backpack he’d grabbed from the car. “Here. I packed you some stuff.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem. You can go and lay down on the couch if you want. I’ll be in after I make a phone call.”

Brendon nods and Spencer watches him walk away.

\--  
Brendon’s asleep on the couch when Spencer gets back from briefing Ashlee and Johnson. It’s always disconcerting how _excited_ they get about the possibility of having to shoot someone. More so Ashlee, who tends to stroke the butt of her gun in unmitigated glee. At least Johnson tries to pretend that he isn’t a little bit bloodthirsty.

 _Still,_ he thinks, flopping down in an armchair, at least he can trust them to have his back.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, a status report, and when he looks up again, Brendon is awake and blinking owlishly at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Brendon pauses. “So, um, sorry about before. I was being a dick.”

Spencer shrugs. “It’s okay, it happens.”

“No, like--” Brendon pats the seat next to him. “Come sit?”

Spencer stands wordlessly, and crosses the room to sit next to Brendon. “I mean it, it’s okay.”

“You saved my life.”

“Well, yes, but it’s still okay. You were scar--” Spencer startles when Brendon cuts him off with a kiss. He freezes for a second, and then relaxes and lets him in. He shuts his eyes and kisses back, cupping Brendon’s face in his hands.

“I was scared because I thought you might get hurt.” Brendon says, pressing his forehead to Spencer’s.

Spencer strokes his thumb over Brendon’s jaw and swallows a little, “It’s my job, Brendon.”

“I know but--” Brendon sighs and pulls away a little bit. “I thought--it doesn’t matter.”

“Hey, no. It matters.”

Brendon shakes his head and picks up the remote. “Forget it, okay? Just--thank you for saving my life.”

“Brendon.”

“I said, forget it.”

Spencer sighs.“Okay, sorry.”

Brendon crosses his arms across his chest and stares at the TV. Spencer spends the rest of the night alternating between wanting to punch something and staring at Brendon’s mouth because it’s _right there._ Spencer thinks that being shot at is the least of his problems.

\--  
Two days later and it’s still awkward as fuck. Brendon alternates between not speaking while being in the same room as him, and walking out as soon as Spencer walks into a room which is annoying, but also has the side effect of making it really fucking difficult for Spencer to do his job.

Spencer’s taken to passing messages to Brendon through Ashlee, but she corners him and tells him to man the fuck up and that she isn’t here to play go between. Finally Spencer gets tired of being ignored so he corners Brendon in the living room.

“So look, I get it, you’re not talking to me, my presence makes you sick, whatever. But you are making it really fucking hard for me to do my job and quite frankly, if you end up getting killed because of this, I am going to be pissed. So if you don’t want to talk to me, then fine, don’t talk to me, but I swear to god if you walk out of the room one more time purely to avoid me, I’m going to tie you to a chair.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Spencer uses the bitch face he tends to use on his most difficult clients and Ryan. “Try me.”

“Whatever.”

“Good.” Spencer picks up the remote and turns the TV on. “And I’m not eating Pizza for dinner again tonight, so you'd better think of something else.”

Brendon huffs out a breath and Spencer sighs. It's a sign of just how gone he apparently is for Brendon because he actually feels bad. “I don’t want to be a hard ass,Brendon. But whatever is going on between us? It can’t get in the way of me keeping you alive.”

“There’s nothing going on between us, Spencer. This is just a job, remember?”

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.”

“Whatever, Spencer. I’ll behave and you can do your _job_ and then you’ll never have to worry about me once this is all over.”

“Because that’s going to be so easy,” Spencer mutters.

“Excuse me?”

Spencer changes the channel. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

\--  
Spencer spends the next day doing paperwork and sending and receiving status reports. Travis arrives to relieve Johnson,and Spencer spends an hour or so shooting the breeze and laughing as he relays the story of Gabe’s latest attempts at seducing Greta.

He’s in the kitchen, reading a file on his laptop and drinking coffee when Brendon walks past with a bowl of cereal even though it’s 8pm. He’s sleep-rumpled and looks so fucking hot that Spencer’s stomach clenches in want and he almost wants to cry in frustration. Brendon catches him staring and his lips raise in a cautious smile. Spencer takes it as progress, trying to resist the urge to push him against the wall and kiss him until they can’t breathe, and he’s seriously, seriously considering giving in and just doing it--which is naturally when everything suddenly goes to hell.

He sees a flash of metal catching moonlight and he jumps into action before he can even think. He pushes Brendon to the ground as the sound of glass breaking registers in his brain, followed by the burn of hot metal in his arm and then his stomach but it’s Brendon screaming his name that send a thrill of fear through his body. There’s the sound of another window breaking and Brendon screams again. Spencer wants to say something, do something, but he can’t move. And then everything goes black.

\--The first thing Spencer notices when he wakes up is the steady throbbing pain in his arm and stomach. The second is Ryan sitting in a chair next to his bed, knees pulled up to his chest and looking like he needs a good night sleep.

Spencer groans and clears his throat. “Ry, hey.”

“Hey,” Ryan shifts closer to the bed. “How do you feel?”

“‘m okay.” Spencer’s eyes drift closed. “I got shot.”

“I know. They got the bullets out, though, and everything is going to be okay.”

Spencer frowns and tries to sit up. “What ‘bout Brendon?”

“Hey, hey lay back down.” Spencer can feel Ryan’s cold hands pressing him back down, “Brendon’s okay. He’s in the waiting room with Jon.”

“‘s he okay?”

“He’s fine, Spence. You saved his life.”

“Still mad at me.” Spencer can feel himself dozing off. “Tell him ‘m sorry.”

Spencer can feel the weight of the blanket on his chest when Ryan pulls it up over him. “Tell him yourself when you wake up.”

“Ry.” Spencer grabs hold of his hand and squeezes weakly. “He‘s my Walker.”

“I know, Spence.” Ryan squeezes back, “I know.”

\--  
Spencer is glaring mournfully at the terrible hospital food when there’s a knock at the door. He looks up and attempts to straighten. “Sir. Sir, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Relax, Smith.” Spencer’s boss comes in and pulls up a chair. “Of course I would come and see you. One of my best agents gets shot, I think I can afford to make a personal visit to check on him.”

”Well, thank you, Sir. It’s good to see you.”

“I think it will be even better once I tell you that we have the suspect in custody. We searched his place, and all evidence points to him working alone, so while he’s been cooling his heels in prison, we’ve been building a strong case against him.”

Spencer nods, “So the threat is neutralized?”

“We’re considering it a closed case. All involved parties have been informed, so as far as I’m concerned, you’re now on vacation.”

“But--sir. I don’t need a--”

“You were shot, Smith. It’s not negotiable, you know this. You’ll meet with the Agency councilor when you get out of hospital and I don’t want to see you for a month. Longer if the councilor doesn’t clear you.”

Spencer sighs. "Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Get some rest.” He stands and nods at Spencer, and leaves. Spencer huffs a little and back down. It doesn’t take long for him to fall back asleep.

\--  
The next time Spencer wakes up, Brendon’s sitting next to the bed, staring into space. Spencer takes a moment to take him in, quickly checking for obvious signs of him not being okay. He doesn’t see anything that sets of alarm bells except that his eyes are red and a little puffy, and Spencer wonders why he's been crying.

He clears his throat and shifts a little. “Bren?”

“Hey, don’t move.”

Spencer frowns. “‘m okay. I didn’t--what are you doing here? The threat is gone.”

“You were shot, Spence. _Twice._ For me.” Brendon is looking at Spencer like he’s crazy which is more than a little unfair. Spencer was _shot_ , okay, he’s allowed to be confused and Brendon sitting in his hospital room, when there’s no real need is _confusing._

“But--” he sighs. “It‘s nothing. Really.”

Brendon snorts.“Yeah, okay.”

“‘s my job.”

“Yeah, yeah, you said.” Brendon stands up and starts pacing. “Except you know what? That’s total _crap._ You were kissing me just as much as I was kissing you.”

“I never--”

“No, you shut up. I’m talking and you’re going to listen. I get it, it’s your job to protect me but this--” Brendon points between them, “This wasn’t just you doing your job. We got close, Spencer, and if that scares you then that’s okay, but don’t hide behind your job.”

“m not hiding behind anything.” Spencer reaches out and takes Brendon's hand, wincing at the pain in his arm as he moves. “I’m not hiding, okay?”

“Spence--” Brendon sigh and nods, “Okay. Okay, well you should get some more sleep and we’ll talk when you’re feeling better.”

Brendon sits down in the chair and opens a book. Spencer frowns. “You’re staying?”

“Okay, I'm going to break it down for you, because clearly you’re more doped up than I originally thought. I am staying here because I want to make sure you’re okay. I’m staying here because I’m not a soulless robot who can turn my feelings off and unlike someone in this room whose name I won’t mention. So lay down and go to sleep.”

“You’re bossy.” Spencer yawns and he feels his eyes drifting closed. “It’s kinda hot.”

Spencer falls asleep before he hears Brendon’s reply.

 _center_ \-- _center_

Brendon, Spencer thinks, is quite possibly the most stubborn person he knows. Which is saying a lot considering he’s best friends with Ryan who practically personifies stubbornness

“No, really, you don’t have to stay. I’m just going to lay here on the couch and watch shitty TV all day.”

“Yes, I do have to stay. I’m not sure how much clearer I can be. You’re injured and I’m going to look after you until you’re no longer injured.”

Brendon fluffs a pillow and slips it behind Spencer’s head. No matter how much Spencer protests, he has to admit that the attention is kinda nice. Even if Brendon is a little bit scary whenever Spencer brings up the subject of him going home.

“I’m _fine._ ”

Brendon gives him a dirty look and keep fussing with the blanket in his hand. Spencer sighs and tries not to wince too obviously when moving causes a stab of pain in his stomach.

“Are you okay? What hurts?”

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Nothing. I’m just a little sore.”

“Yeah, I hear being _shot_ can do that sort of thing to a person.”

Brendon lays the blanket over him and Spencer reaches out, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. “Hey. This really wasn’t your fault, you know.”

“I know that.” Brendon snatches his wrist back,. “Do you need something to drink?”

Spencer tries not to sigh again because _ow_ , and shakes his head, “No. Thank you, though.”

“No problem. I’m going to go and check on your soup.” Brendon disappears into the kitchen and Spencer shuts his eyes.

It’s not that he doesn’t want Brendon around because, hello, it’s Brendon. Brendon, who is smart and funny and, when he’s not being a crazed pillow wielding dictator, is actually pretty chill to be around. He’s kinda nerdy which Spencer loves and he seems to know everything about music there is to know, which Spencer finds soothing in a strange way. It’s just--Spencer _hurts_ and it’s hard keeping a brave face and hiding the after-effects of a flashback because the last thing he wants is to make Brendon feel even more guilty than he clearly already feels.

He shifts a little, his movement restricted by the bandages around his abdomen, and sighs, sinking into the pillows. He falls asleep.

\--  
It’s dark when Spencer wakes up, his screams echoing in his head, the sound of his name being repeated over and over struggling to break through. His lungs burn and he grabs hold of the nearest object and squeezes, shutting his eyes tight and counting backwards from ten as slowly as he can.

He feels whatever he grabbed hold of squeeze back, and then a warm hand press against his chest. “Spence?”

Spencer waits until his lungs stop burning so much before he opens his eyes. Brendon’s looking back at him, worry etched across his face. “Spence, are you okay?”

Spencer can only nod and squeeze Brendon’s hand. He’s worried that if he opens his mouth everything he is actually feeling will come spewing out.

Brendon seems to get it because he squeezes back and uses his other hand to push at Spencer’s should until he’s laying down again. Brendon crawls up next to him and doesn’t let go of him.

“You’re okay.” Brendon brushes some hair out of Spencer’s face, and it’s all Spencer can do not to press into his touch. Brendon starts humming and Spencer can feels tears burning at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He winces when his voice comes out rough and ragged.

Brendon shakes his head and swipes his thumb lightly at the corner of Spencer’s eye. “Hey, none of that. There nothing to apologize for.”

Spencer nods. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.” Brendon shifts so that he’s laying down and then he pulls the covers up over them, still holding tight to Spencer’s hand.

“Thank you.”

Brendon leans in and presses the lightest of kisses to the corner of Spencer’s mouth. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

“Okay.” Spencer resists the urge to move closer, knowing that it will only result in pain. He closes his eyes and holds on to Brendon’s hand for dear life, and eventually falls back asleep with the sound of Brendon humming filling his head.

\--  
When Spencer wakes up the next morning, his head is pounding in a way it hasn't since Senior Year when he would get tension headaches that left him feeling like his brain was going to explode every time he moved.

It's bright in the room and he squints his eyes at the spot next to him where he knows Brendon fell asleep last night. Brendon might be careful around him during the day, but in his sleep he's all knees to the balls and flailing arms. Spencer's pretty sure he's got more bruises than he did when he fell asleep.

There's a crash in the kitchen, followed by Brendon cursing. Spencer groans, propping himself up on his elbows. At least it's not someone breaking in, he thinks. He's not in any mood to fight off an intruder and when his head pounds sharply, he starts to rethink his position. At least there's a chance an intruder could be armed and would put him out of his misery.

Brendon appears in the doorway with a tray and a cautious smile. “Hey, I made breakfast.”

“Thanks.” Spencer struggles to sit up without angering the tiny little men with hammers in his head. He settles against the pillows. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Brendon sets the tray on his legs and sits next to him. “You really need to do grocery shopping, dude. There is like, nothing in your fridge or cupboards. I had to haul ass to the store on the corner. Chip sends his love.”

“Urgh, Chip. He is like a really bad case of mold, that guy, I swear.”

“Ohh, so he’s the competition, huh? I see.” Brendon grins and helps Spencer with his juice.

“Competition?”

Brendon shrugs. “I’ve decided to woo you. I was going to wait for you, but then I was talking to Ryan and--”

“Wait, what? You talked to Ryan? When?”

“He called the other day. He was worried about you, but I told him you were sleeping so he said he’d talk to me instead. Something about his fiance being a crazy cat lady. Anyway, he told me that you suck at relationships and that while I may be defunct when it comes to most forms of socializing I’m probably more together than you.” Brendon pauses. “He’s actually kinda brutal really.”

“Well, yeah. That’s Ryan for you. Also, you’re not defunct and I don’t suck at--” Spencer is cut off by Brendon stuffing a piece of French toast in his mouth.

“Anyway, he said that I need to woo you because waiting around for you would be pointless and a waste of time. So here I am, Spencer Smith. Declaring my intentions.”

“Brendon.”

Brendon’s face drops, “Oh. Okay, forget I said it yeah? I was just talking too much.”

“No hey. Hey.” Spencer tugs on his hand. “You should totally declare your intentions. I am totally down with that.”

Brendon smiles. “Yeah?”

Spencer tugs on his hand and pulls him closer. He licks his lips and hesitates, but then leans in to kiss Brendon. It’s not like that first kiss, for one, Brendon’s not attacking his face, but also because it’s slow and it takes a little coaxing for Brendon to kiss back. When he does, Spencer can’t help but wonder what he was thinking, dragging his feet on this. Maybe Ryan was right, maybe he really is shit at relationships.

He smiles when Brendon rests his forehead against his, pink cheeked and lips bright red, “So. Wooing huh?”

Brendon laughs and kisses him again, short but with a little bit of heat behind it. “Mmhm. I’m going to rock your world but first, breakfast.”

Spencer sighs when Brendon moves away. “You’re so pushy.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe.” Spencer smiles and eats his breakfast, watching Brendon out of the corner of his eye. He’s starting to think that this is what all of this is. Love. Surprisingly, the thought doesn’t scare him like he thought it would. Instead he just smiles, and finishes eating.

\--  
“It’s time to change your bandages.”

Spencer looks away from the TV and at Brendon. “Ugh, already?”

“Yep.” Brendon waves a couple of rolls of bandages and some gauze around. “Get your shirt off, hot stuff.”

“Hot stuff? Really?” Spencer pulls his shirt over his head carefully. It still hurts but nowhere near as bad as it did a couple of days ago.

Brendon grins and sits on the edge of the bed. “You know it.”

“You are so weird.”

“Eh, you dig it, don’t even front.” Brendon starts taking the old bandages off and Spencer holds still. He’s not used to being touched like this, not really, not the way Brendon does. He’s so careful, almost tender, and Spencer loves seeing his face when he’s concentrating, resisting the urge to lean in and kiss him.

He shivers when Brendon traces his fingers over his old scars, the one on his ribs, his stomach, his chest. “Brendon.”

Brendon looks up at him with dark eyes. “Okay?”

Spencer nods and then lets out a slow rush of air when Brendon presses his lips lightly to each scar. He slides his hand into Brendon’s hair and just rests it there, watching Brendon’s progress. Brendon kisses further down, stopping when he reaches the waistband of Spencer’s sleep pants.

“Can I?”

Spencer nods quickly. "Yeah--yes. Please.”

Brendon tugs Spencer’s pants down and off, then leans down to nuzzle at his hip. Spencer keeps his hand in his hair and whimpers when Brendon kisses further down his thigh.

“You are so fucking hot, Spence.” Brendon looks up at him and grins, but anything Spencer was going to say is gone the second Brendon’s mouth closes over his dick.

Spencer immediately tightens his hold on Brendon’s hair and moans. “Bren--fuck.”

Brendon hums around his dick, mouth stretched and spit slick and seriously, _seriously_ Spencer’s brain completely blanks out. Brendon takes him down the whole way and then pulls off with an audible pop and Spencer is so close to coming, right then and there that it isn’t even close to being funny.

“Fuck.”

Brendon grins up at him and goes back to kissing down his thigh, stopping to bite at the sensitive skin and then, when Brendon bites down harder, all Spencer can think is _Brendon,want...need._.

Brendon moves up so that he's straddling Spencer’s thighs, and Spencer reaches out, fingers clutching and dragging, pulling at Brendon’s clothes. Brendon moves back long enough to get naked completely, before they fall back into each other, kissing and touching, hot breath and low moans and gentle touches.

Spencer thinks that seeing Brendon naked might be the best thing in the _world_. He feels like he could spend hours mapping Brendon's skin with his tongue and fingers, learning every dip of skin, every nook and crevice. He wants to run his fingers over every rib, count them as he goes, run his tongue down the ridges of Brendon's spine and he wonders if Brendon would let him. He wonders if Brendon hold still and let Spencer do whatever he wanted.

Brendon moves away and Spencer uses the opportunity to move until he can rest against the headboard and then Brendon is back, straddling him, mouth and tongue meeting Spencer's. Brendon’s hand reaches down to take Spencer’s and he feels the lube being poured onto his fingers--and where the hell did Brendon even _find_ that?-- slicking them up and then Brendon is moving Spencer's hand, guiding them towards his ass.

Spencer takes the hint and eases a finger inside him, smirking at the hitch in Brendon's breath. He waits, waits for Brendon to adjust and then when Brendon pushes down, he eases a second in beside the first. Brendon starts to push back against them, rocking slowly, grinding back and down and Spencer can feel their dicks rubbing together, hot and slow, Brendon alternating between kissing him deep and hard and panting against his mouth.

Spencer shifts his fingers, twists and crooks and Brendon keens, arching and moaning into Spencer's mouth and he looks fucking gorgeous like this. Spencer wants to keep him like this forever. Wants to keep _him_ forever. The thought gets pushed to the back of his mind when Brendon bites and tugs at his bottom lip, and he whines, blushing because woah, that's never happened before.

Spencer pulls his fingers back and Brendon reaches between them, rolling a condom onto his dick and slicking it up. Brendon wraps his hand around the base the condom to keep it steady and then lowers himself, the tiniest of moans escaping against Spencer's lips. Spencer honest to goodness cannot think of a better feeling than this. Of being inside Brendon, their foreheads resting against each other, eyes locked, breathing irregular and this isn't like any other time Spencer's had sex in the past. This is something completely different, something he suddenly feels like they've been building up to since day one.

Brendon starts to move, shuddering with every rise and fall and Spencer grips his hips tight enough to bruise. He wants to leave marks, wants Brendon to mark him in return and from the way Brendon moans when he does it, he's totally on board with that plan.

Spencer thrusts up into Brendon, reaches between them and wraps his hand around Brendon's dick. He starts to stroke, building slowly, matching their rhythm and Brendon surges forward, capturing Spencer's mouth in his for the most fleeting of moments and then he grinds down as Spencer pushes up . He starts to pant harshly against Spencer's mouth, and Spencer can feel the tension coiling and building low in his own stomach.

"You close?" Brendon whispers, his breath warm against Spencer's ear.

"You first, Bren", he says stroking Brendon's dick faster, twisting his wrist slightly, and then Brendon moans, biting down on Spencer's lip. He comes between them, hot and fast and shaking.

Spencer waits for Brendon to stop shaking, then grips his hips and holds him in place. He thrusts up once, twice and then he's falling over the edge, coming inside Brendon. His breathing and heart shudder to a stop for the smallest of moments, and then they kick back in again.

"Fuck." Spencer lifts Brendon slightly, the pull where his stitches are barely registering as he eases out of him and then collapses back against the headboard,completely wrecked.

Brendon falls against him, not looking much better, nuzzling and kissing Spencer's neck. Spencer wraps his arms around him, holding him close, and then they are kissing again, soft and sweet and suddenly Spencer knows he can do this. He knows he can actually do this, push his fear and commitment issues aside and be with Brendon.

He's dragged away from his thoughts by the sound of Brendon laughing. Spencer studies him confused, "What?"

"Dude, I came on your bullet wound."

"Oh my god." Spencer starts laughing. "That can't be sanitary."

Brendon groans and gets off the bed. "I'll get something to clean it."

"Okay, but when you get back there better be more kissing."

"Is that an order, Smith? You know you're not the boss of me anymore." Brendon shakes his ass a little on his way to the door.

"You came on my bullet wound. That I got _saving your life_. You owe me, Urie."

“Lies.”

Spencer grins to himself when Brendon disappears into the bathroom, but his face falls when Brendon comes back with the antiseptic. “I hate that stuff. It stings.”

“Aww poor baby.” Brendon sits back on Spencer’s thighs and dabs some on a piece of cotton wool. “I’ll kiss it better, promise.”

Spencer nods and then hisses when Brendon starts cleaning his wound. It’s mostly healed but Brendon is still careful just in case. Brendon winces a little and pets at Spencer’s hip with his free hand. “‘s okay Spence. Not much longer.”

“Fuck.” Spencer flinches when Brendon starts to clean the corner of the wound where the stitches still hadn't quite dissolved, “Fucking fuck.”

“Shh. Hey.” Brendon throws the cotton wool out and smiles. “All done yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah just--that shit really fucking stings.”

“I know. But dude, you had come on you. What if that shit had of gotten into your blood stream? You could totally have gotten pregnant.”

Spencer stares at him and then bursts out laughing. “Oh my--you have no idea how biology works, do you?”

Brendon grins and kisses his nose, then hops off the bed. “I do. I’m just trying to distract you. Now, what are your thoughts on pizza?”

“I’m totally for it.”

“Awesome. I’m ordering in, though. No offense, but I kinda expected you to have a bigger place. One with a working stove, even.”

Spencer laughs a little. “Hey, no. This isn’t my place. I just stay here, you’ve been to my place.”

“What?”

“The safe house. That’s _my_ house.”

Brendon frowns. “Then why are you staying here?”

“I don’t know. I guess--” Spencer shrugs. “It’s a big place and I don’t really--it gets lonely. So I stay here and let the agency use it.”

“Spence.”

Spencer sighs, “It’s not a big deal. It’s just--god this is so embarrassing. I guess--I’ve never really had--like. I’ve never really had a relationship. Or--a boyfriend either.”

“Hey, no that’s not embarrassing.” Brendon sits on the bed and reaches out to take Spencer’s hand. “Totally not embarrassing. I’ve never really had a relationship either. I just tend to go to like, Comic Con or whatever and have a whole bunch of anonymous sex with guys dressed like Han Solo.”

“What--wait really? Han Solo?” Spencer pauses. “So that time--when you said I was more Harrison Ford than Kevin Costner. You were--”

“Hitting on you? Yeah pretty much.” Brendon grins and squeezes his hand. “It’s cool yeah? We’ll just take it as it comes.”

Spencer nods and squeezes back. “Okay, yeah.”

“Awesome. But dude, I didn’t want to say anything when I thought this was your place, but I’m pretty sure the bathroom alone breaks about a zillion health codes.”

“You’re probably right. I’ll call the agency in the morning and see about going home.”

Brendon smiles and kisses him soft and quick. “Awesome. So pizza?”

“Totally.”

\--  
“Okay, I think that’s the last one.”

Spencer smiles from his spot on the couch and nods. “Dude, you’re like a house moving master.”

Brendon grins and sits down at the end of the couch, lifting Spencer’s feet into his lap, “It wasn’t that hard. You don’t own that much stuff. By the way, you do however, own way too many shoes.”

“Nonsense. There’s no such thing.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Brendon rests his head back against the couch and closes his eyes, trailing his fingers up and down the instep of Spencer’s foot.

Spencer watches him for a minute and smiles fondly. “Hey. Sleepy?”

“Mmhm.”

“You should stay the night. You know--if you want to.” Spencer pauses. “I mean it’s a long drive back to your place and--”

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking. I bought a change of clothes with me.” Brendon doesn’t even open his eyes but he wraps a hand around Spencer’s ankle and squeezes.

“Oh really? That was presumptuous of you.” Spencer teases, but he can feel the small knot of fear that Brendon would go away now that he’s on the road to recovery loosen in his chest.

“What can I say, you’re stuck with me.”

Spencer smiles and rests back against the arm of the couch. “I’m totally okay with that.”

Brendon smiles. “Awesome.”

“Totally awesome.” Spencer smiles to himself and closes his eyes. For the first time, in a long time, everything feels right.

\--  
“You look hot.”

Spencer turns around from where he is adjusting his tie in the mirror, and smiles. Brendon’s leaning in the doorway, suit jacket open and tie draped around his neck.

“You too. What do you call that look?”

Brendon grins and walks further in the room. “Can’t tie my tie for shit chic.”

Spencer reaches out and pulls him close. “Well, as much as I dig it, I’m pretty sure Ryan will stop the ceremony and judge you if it doesn’t get tied.”

“Ryan’s very bossy.” Brendon holds still while Spencer quickly knots the tie and straightens it.

“Mmhm. You have no idea.”

Brendon smiles and leans in and kisses Spencer,swift and hot. “I’d be willing to risk his wrath if you wanted to fool around for a couple of minutes.”

“As much as I love that idea,” Spencer buttons Brendon’s jacket for him, “We really don’t want to make him mad on his wedding day.”

Brendon sighs dramatically. “Fine. You’ll save me a dance, right?”

“I’m sure I can squeeze you in.”

“Uh huh, you do that.”

Spencer grins. “I will.”

Brendon takes his hand and squeezes. “Good thing I love you.”

Spencer stomach swoops and he can’t smile big enough. “Yeah? You love me?”

“Yeah.” Brendon nods a little. “Yeah, I do.”

Spencer grins and kicks the door shut, then backs Brendon up against the wall. “I love you too.”

He ducks his head and kisses Brendon deep and hot, pinning his hips to the wall with his own. Brendon curls his arms around him and kisses back, making the tiniest whimpering noises into Spencer's mouth.

Spencer breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against Brendon. “Fuck.”

“We’re going to be late.” Brendon bites at his bottom lip and want shoots straight to Spencer’s dick.

Spencer kisses along Brendon’s jaw, shivering when Brendon tugs lightly at his hair. “Fuck it.”

“What about Ryan?”

“Fuck Ryan.” Spencer kisses him again, pulling Brendon legs up around his waist, grinning when Brendon moans into his mouth.

\--  
Fifteen minutes later, Spencer drags Brendon out of the room and into the backyard, showing him to his seat and then making his way to stand beside Ryan. He ignores the dirty look Ryan gives him and grins back at Jon when he gives him a thumbs up. When the celebrant starts talking, he catches Brendon’s eye and winks. He knows there will be hell to pay later when Ryan gets his hands on him but when Brendon winks back, he can’t bring himself to care.


End file.
